


Building on Each Other

by cyberlord4444



Category: LEGO Dimensions, Lego - All Media Types, Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Alt-Power Taylor Hebert, Hero Taylor, Team as Family, The Path to Victory Gets Screwed With
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 01:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17757191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyberlord4444/pseuds/cyberlord4444
Summary: When the Queen Shard attempted to link with Taylor, something got in the way. Something large, of incredible cosmic power, and green.Spoilers for Lego Dimensions





	1. First Build

In an alternate reality, a shard prepared.

It's target was finally ready for synchronisation, the trigger event was in progress, it was time.

However, before the synchronisation could complete, something landed on it, destroying it utterly.

In another reality, a group of heroes, and a couple of villains, thwarted the efforts of a madman to control and combine their entire section of the multiverse. During this confrontation, the artifact he was attempting to control split into 4 pieces and drifted aimlessly through reality. Eventually, one of these fragments arrived in the same reality that the shard was residing.

The result was that, instead of Taylor Hebert connecting to a Queen Shard and gaining control over insects, she tapped into a section of the Foundation of the Lego Universe.

And her's would never be the same.

* * *

(Taylor POV)

2 weeks.

2 goddamn  _weeks_ in the hospital after what they did to me. Plus an additional week of the medical version of house arrest.

I lay back in bed and huffed, half out of boredom and half out of frustration. Actually on second thought, the ratio was 1:3, maybe 4. _Apparently_ grabbing a ton of used tampons from the trash and letting them rot for a few days is a recipe for infection, I was lucky none of the girls who 'donated' them had an STD. Combine that with being trapped in a locker overnight, clawing at the door until my fingers bled trying to escape, I'm actually surprised they didn't need to call in Panacea.

Again I considered telling Dad what had happened, what had  _been_ happening. Again, I dismissed it. Emma, my former best friend, and her two cronies had been tormenting me for years now, I could handle it a bit longer. Besides, it wasn't like anything would change. Winslow was less a school and more a recruitment office for the city's various gangs, I gave up on telling a teacher after a week.

The frustration wasn't anything I could do about, but I wasn't staying in bed for another minute. I might still be feeling a bit weak, but a stray memory of something from my childhood made me grin. Pulling myself out of bed, I slowly made my way to the basement.

Most of the basement was filled with my mother's old things, exiled here after she died. I pointedly avoided them as best I could as I pulled out a large plastic bin. No way in hell was I getting this thing up the stairs, even  _if_   I wasn't feeling like crap. Luckily there was an old table and chair down here I could use. I dragged the bin over to it, removed the lid...

And looked over my, impressive if I do say so myself, collection of Legos.

Fond memories surged through my mind as I picked up a handful of bricks and let them trickle through my fingers. Giggling just a little, I grabbed a handful and dumped them on the table and started to put them together. I eventually managed to put together a little yellow ATV, most of the pieces were from construction vehicle sets. The funny thing was, I always had trouble putting things together without instructions, but here I made something that could have belonged in an official kit without so much as  _glancing_ at them. However, the last time I had really played with these things was when I was 9, and it was a pretty simple build so... not too strange I guess.

A moment of hesitation later, I was rolling the little ATV across the table, making 'vroom' noises. So sue me, it was relaxing, and I needed to relax. After the shit that I had gone through the past year and a half, hell, the last couple of weeks, this made me feel 10,000 times better. After a minute I let go of it.

And it kept on moving.

My jaw hit the table as the little collection of plastic pieces moved under its own power, right towards the edge of the table. Without thinking, I willed it to turn before it went over, and turn it did. Before long I had built it a little stunt course, and had it going over jumps, through loop-de-loops, and all matters of other tricks. As it hit the big ramp, I wondered what it would be like to ride it.

And as it cleared the jump it grew to the size of an actual ATV and collided with the wall.

I was so shocked that I didn't notice my dad entering the basement until the crowbar he was holding hit the concrete floor with a clatter. Even then, we could only stare at each other, competing to see who had the bigger mouth, until he finally broke the silence.

"So... you're a cape."

"Looks like it."

* * *

(3rd POV)

Contessa was a villain. She had done so many terrible things that a mere fraction of them would have earned her the death penalty. The fact that her end goal was the destruction of a being that threatened the entire planet was inconsequential.

She herself was one of the most important members of her group, due to her power. She could see the path that led to victory, every single step laid out in order. Since awakening her power she has spent every waking moment and then some as a slave to the Path, every missed step lengthening the path in a worst case scenario.

15 minutes ago, the Path had, for a lack of a better word, hiccupped. Instead of a long list of tasks, there now stood only one.

  * Standby 3 months, then examine situation Brockton Bay



It stayed the same, just like the last thousand or so times she had checked it. The current record of free time that the Path had allowed her was 18 hours. For it to suddenly have a 3 month gap meant only 1 thing, a new trigger. Not just a new trigger but one so powerful that they had become integral to the path. There hadn't been any news of a debut in Broxton Bay that she had heard of, which meant they were either laying low and something would expose them in 3 months, or they were getting some practice and/or prep work in before their debut.

Making a decision, she sent off a few emails before packing a few bags. This was her first vacation  _period_ since encountering Eden all those years ago, and she was going to spend it in Hawaii.


	2. Placing the First Pieces

(Taylor POV)

Over the remainder of the week I was stuck inside my house, dad and I decided to figure out exactly what powers I had, as well as any limitations. There were 2 main ones, bringing Lego figures to life, and expanding them to full size. In addition, when they were full sized, they were way more durable than they had any right to be. Dad spent a good 15 minutes whacking at the ATV with a sledgehammer before a piece came off. Plus I needed to actively will a model to shrink before it did so, it wouldn’t just shrink on its own if I went to sleep. Although we weren’t testing when we found that out, after the shock of finding out I had powers, I forgot to shrink my ATV before going to bed. A weird thing about my powers was that while I could remotely operate any vehicles while they were small, while they were full sized, they actually needed to be driven. Luckily it seems that it doesn’t necessarily need to be me who drives them, although I generally could do so better, I still giggle when I remember dad hitting the tree in our backyard.

 

Then came testing my limits, and boy were they finicky. First off, any movement a model had was what they were capable of if they were just a model, I couldn’t just make a line of 2x4 standard bricks and have it behave like a snake. Speaking of which, my power seemed to work better with vehicles and structures than with animals, just animating a Lego horse gave me a headache, to say nothing of trying to grow the damn thing, would probably just kick me into next week. On the other hand, I had an easier time if I made something that belonged in the Lego City line, especially if it was construction equipment. It also got easier the more familiar I was with the model, especially if I named it, just calling the ATV the Prowler lessened the drain from barely noticeable to virtually nonexistent.

 

That was the last thing we discovered about my powers. When I grew my models, they seemed to draw energy from an inner reserve I had, kind of like a cellphone draining a battery. If something had less of a drain than what I recovered naturally, I could theoretically leave it enlarged indefinitely. The drain grew based on the number of bricks and the complexity of the model, a solid cube using x amount of bricks had the same drain as a hollow one, but less than a vehicle using x amount of bricks. One odd thing was that I seemed to use less power when creating my own designs vs following the instructions, a bulldozer I made using the book had almost double the amount of draw as a race car I made using the exact same parts.

 

The only exceptions to these rules were minifigs. They had a draw when I animated them, even when small, and I couldn’t control them beyond giving them simple instructions. On the plus side, they seemed to gain the skills of whatever costumes they were wearing, a doctor minifig could serve as a GP, a construction minifig fixed that leaky pipe under the sink, etc. They were also a workaround to the ‘can’t remote control enlarged vehicles’ rule if they had the right costume, although the less said about the stunt driver, the better.

 

Over the course of the week, 3 new powers made themselves apparent. The first was that I could look at a pile of parts, and in my head I could instantly see what I could build with them, and how. The second was that I could put models together fast, real fast, commercial time-lapse build fast. Combined, these two powers meant I could go from pile of parts to finished build in seconds, which would be a lifesaver in the field. The last was that any build I made weighed as much as it did when it was small, but only to me, I could put the Prowler over my shoulder and carry it up the stairs, while dad struggled to lift the front end.

 

Based on research on PHO, I tentatively classified myself as a Master, with secondary classifications of Thinker and/or Tinker, and possibly Striker.

 

Of course, such things couldn’t last forever. Soon enough, Monday came, and with it, Winslow.

* * *

“Looks who’s finally back.”

I spared a quick glance at my tormentors. Emma, my former best friend until she one day, she just... wasn’t. Sophia, the track star and specialist in physically tormenting me. And Madison, the groupie who was just... there.

“Wow, you’re even weaker than I thought if a night in a locker had you out of school for 3 weeks,” Sophia jeered.

“You’re as worthless as the Ship graveyard,” Madison chimed in.

“I don’t know about that,” said Emma, “I’m sure all that scrap metal is worth _something_ , I can’t think of anyone who would pay a cent for her ugly ass.”

I turned and walked away as they started laughing. They never saw anything coming as a trio of cream pies appeared out of nowhere and hit them in their faces. As they sputtered and wiped their faces clean, demanding to know who threw them, they never saw a pocket on my backpack zip itself shut, or heard the quiet giggling coming from it. As for me, I was lost in thought. Their material, while weak, had given me an idea.

* * *

If there was one benefit to me triggering, it’s that the week dad and I spent testing my powers had closed the gap between us that had formed when mom died. We still weren’t as close as we had been before, but we were slowly getting there, there was actually some conversation at the dinner table, on the rare occasions we were able to share it. Luckily the time off he had taken due to my hospitalization hadn’t expired yet, so I was able to bring up my idea to him that night.

“You know how I want to be a hero right?”

Dad’s grip tightened around his disposable chopsticks, the thought of me fighting villains scared him, not that I could blame him. “Yes, I assume you’ve come up with an idea about that.”

I nodded, “I was thinking about starting off by doing something small. Brockton Bay would be a lot better off if I dismantled the Ship Graveyard.”

Dad couldn’t help but chuckle, “And how is scrapping a dozen container ships small?”

“It is compared to fighting an Endbringer.”

I winced as dad’s face paled, that _probably_ wasn’t the best example to go with. “I sincerely hope that was a hypothetical situation.”

“Of course it was, I’m not going to even _think_ about volunteering for an Endbringer fight without a lot more experience.” That being said, dreams of punching Leviathan in the face with a giant Lego robot were sweet indeed, the damage he did to global shipping just by existing was the main reason Brockton Bay was as bad as it was. “Seriously though, I think it’s a good idea. I get to practice using bigger models, Brockton Bay loses a major eyesore, and the money from selling the scrap steel would be a major boon for the economy.” Dad put down his chopsticks and laced his fingers together, placing them in front of his mouth. I had seen that pose before, dad only did that when he was really thinking hard about business things. “You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“No, I think it’s a great idea. The problem is whether or not it’s a _legal_ idea.”

I mentally facepalmed. Starting my hero career by scrapping a bunch of boats might not be such a good idea if there were actual owners who could sue me for stealing their property. “We need a lawyer.”

“That we do.” Dad reached for a newspaper that lay forgotten since breakfast and started flipping through the classifieds. After a minute, he found someone we could both agree was probably the best choice.

Carol Dallon, Specialist in Parahuman Law


	3. Proof of Concept

(Taylor POV)

When I originally considered Mrs Dallon, I forgot 2 rather important pieces of information. The first was that she worked at the same firm as Emma’s father. Luckily we didn’t run into him. I wasn’t certain whether or not Emma’s threats to sue us into oblivion were true, but I didn’t want to take the chance.

 

The second was that she was Brandish.

 

To be honest, it was kind of funny how I found out. Dad and I were sitting in the waiting room, wearing what I thought were quite clever yet subtle methods to conceal our identity. I was wearing a hospital mask, and had made the brave sacrifice of biting into a hot pepper to cause my eyes to water and nose to run, giving the impression that I had a cold and was being so considerate as to not give it to anyone. Dad had managed to find a pair of oversized sunglasses that could fit over his regular ones, it covered more of his face than a domino mask, while not looking out of place on a rather sunny day like today.

 

The first clue we had was the dress suit hanging behind the secretary's desk. Another was the bulk pack of wet wipes I could see poking out from behind it. Those could be excused though, anyone who worked with capes on a semi-regular basis would probably get a little messy from time to time. Mush had the ability to create an exoskeleton out of literal garbage, and capes with fire-based abilities were more common than Alexandria packages. The police scanner on her desk was a little stranger, but knowing about possible clients before they even made an appointment seemed like a reasonable idea. When she stood up from behind her desk, took the dress suit off the rack, and handed it to a costumed yet maskless cape who was covered in soot that walked into Mrs Dallon’s office in a move that was so slick that it had to be honed by doing it every day, and said “Mrs Dallon will be with you in a minute”, that I suddenly realized who she was.

 

Sitting in front of her desk as she wiped the last of the soot from her forehead with a wet wipe, I was thankful that the medical mask covered my embarrassed blush. “Sorry if I kept you waiting, there was an apartment fire on my commute. So, I understand that one of you wants to register as a Rogue?”

 

“That would be my daughter here,” dad said, the traitor attempting to keep his giggles out of his voice. He forgets what my power is. He wakes up before dawn and doesn’t own a pair of slippers and I have power over all Lego, he shall pay.

 

“Alright,” Mrs Dallon said as she pulled a somewhat intimidating stack of paperwork from her desk. “Now, we’ll start with a description of your powers, although if you’d prefer to give me a demonstration, feel free unless it’ll destroy my office. It got annoying after the 3rd time.”

 

Deciding not to think too hard about that, I pulled the Prowler from my pocket and placed it on her desk, making it do a few tricks, then placed it on a clear area of the floor and grew it to full size.

 

Mrs Dallon maintained a rather impressive poker face, the only reaction from her was the slight rising of her eyebrows. “A rather interesting power, I don’t suppose you’d be willing to elaborate a bit more?” I didn’t trust myself to speak without babbling on like a starstruck fan, but we had come prepared. Dad had used the skills honed by years in the Dockworkers Association to create a summary of my abilities, combined it with a typed up version of our power testing notes, and made it into a professional looking document. A grin grew on her face as she flipped through it. “It’s a pleasant surprise to see something like this from an independent, I have half a mind to hire you to my team.”

 

“Thank you, but I’m happy where I am.”

 

“Pity,” Dallon said as she set the document to the side. “Normally this is where I’d recommend visiting the PRT for power testing, but I think sending a copy of this to them should suffice for now.” Before she could continue, we were interrupted by a rapping on the window. Turning to look, we saw that Glory Girl(OMG!!!) was knocking on the window. “Excuse me for a moment,” Mrs Dallon said, exasperated look on her face, as she walked over to the window and opened it. “Victoria, what have I told you about interrupting me while I’m with a client?”

 

“I know, but Aegis invited me for a joint patrol this afternoon and I thought you’d might want to know,” Glory Girl replied. However, I had yet to shrink the Prowler, and a full-sized ATV made of Lego in the middle of an office tends to catch the eye, and Glory Girl wasn’t known for being the most focused of Parahumans. “Whoa, what the hell is that?” Like a paperclip being drawn to a magnet, Glory Girl shot towards the Prowler. “This is pretty cool, you a Tinker?”

 

“M-maybe?” Hey my voice didn’t crack too much, yay?

 

“How are you maybe a Tinker?” Glory Girl asked as she straddled the prowler. “Normally that would be pretty obviouoaaasaaaaaaahhhh!!!” Don’t ask me how, maybe she thought just because there didn’t look like there was a grip throttle there wasn’t one, but somehow she got it moving, crashed it _through_ the wall, and rode it down the 4 story drop to the ground and down the street, a scream of both fear and exhilaration erupting from her mouth.

 

Mrs Dallon facepalmed as the secretary's voice came over the intercom,  _“Do you need me to call the repair people?”_ Mrs Dallon only groaned in response.  _“Very well then, I’ll get your spare office ready then.”_

 

How often does this kind of thing happen that she has a spare office on standby?


	4. Focus Testing

(Taylor POV)

Today has been an... interesting day so far. First I met with my lawyer, who happens to be Brandish from New Wave. Then I met Glory Girl, also from New Wave, who stole my Prowler and drove it through a wall. Now Brandish and I followed her, to find her with Aegis, Kid Win, and Vista of the Wards. And I don’t even have a real costume yet. Luckily Brandish had a selection of domino masks so I could ditch my hospital mask for something much more superheroey. She even had a nice nice red one with built in lenses that matched my prescription so I didn’t have to wear my glasses on top. Unfortunately, this meant that my dumbfounded expression at seeing Glory Girl getting chewed out was plain for all to see.

“How many times do Mark and I have to tell you to be more careful?! Not only did you bust a hole through my office wall, but you did it by driving off on equipment you _stole_ from my latest client!” 

I’m not sure if _stole_ is the right word, it’s not like she meant to. Besides, it’s Glory Girl, you can cut her some slack, right?

“VICTORIA! AURA!”

All of a sudden, my absolutely overriding awe of Glory Girl vanished and my irritation of her having jacked my Prowler returned. Right, she does have the ability to make people like/fear her. Looks like it doesn’t work on her mom though. I’d say it was a pity, but again, jacked.

“So, you’re a new cape huh?” Okay, just need to double check, yes that _is_ Vista, and she _is_ talking to me. Okay, play it cool.

“Y-yeah, I am.”

Open mouth, insert foot, apply palm directly to face.

“This is a pretty cool machine.” Oh look, Kid Win likes the Prowler, I can work with this.

“First thing I made.” No stuttering, I think I’m starting to get the hang of talking to capes.

“First one’s always special, isn’t it,” he replied, what parts of his face I could see adopting a wistful expression.

“So, when are you going to explain about not being sure whether or not you’re a Tinker?” And GG’s back in the conversation, even moms need to catch their breath.

A grin spread across my face, I’ve been practising this for a while. With a completely unnecessary snap of my fingers, I shrunk the Prowler down to mini-mode. Another snap, and it was back to being rideable.

Vista whistled, “Impressive, I assume you can do a whole lot more than just an ATV.”

I (attempted to) flash an enigmatic grin as my mind went to my new notebook filled with concept art for builds that I just knew I would have no trouble enlarging, “You could say that.”

“Well, nothing personal, but this is the part where I make a recruitment pitch for the Wards so Armsmaster doesn’t give me console duty for a month,” Aegis replied, a rueful grin on his face.

“Yeah right, she came to my mom, she’s joining New Wave,” Glory Girl interjected.

While most people my age, hell, anybody, would be thrilled to get an invite to either one of those groups, let alone both, I had my problems with both of them. Joining New Wave might mean kissing any hope of having a secret identity goodbye, I might be able to protect myself no problem, but I’m not going to risk Kaiser following the unwritten rules and not going after my dad. As for the Wards, that sounds like a whole mess of teenage drama, and I’ve had my fill after Emma betraying me. Luckily, I have a ready made pseudo-excuse ready to go which(hopefully) won’t make anyone mad.

“Actually, I’m going Rogue for a while to start. Mrs Dallon’s helping me set something up so I can clean up the Ship Graveyard. Selling the scrap metal and using the funds to hire some people to help me should do a lot for the local economy.” I internally braced myself, surely they won’t be _too_ mad that I’m not going to use my, in my own opinion, awesome powers to fight crime.

A frown appeared on Mrs Dallon’s face, here it comes. “Why the hell haven’t we thought of doing that?” Huh?

A wide grin appeared on Vista’s face, “You’re gonna clean up the Graveyard? Put’er there.” She held up her hand for a high-five, about a foot away from me. Oh, yeah, she has space-folding powers, I high-fived empty air, only a little surprised when I heard the distinctive smack.

All around me were famous superheroes either thinking me cleaning up the Graveyard was an awesome idea, or kicking themselves for not thinking of it first. I was feeling pretty good, totally bragging on PHO when I get my cape account set up.

“Anyway, back to more important matters,” Victoria said with a clap of her hands, “we need to figure out if you’re a Tinker or not.”

“And how do you propose we figure that out?” asked Kid Win, “I’m a Tinker, and even _I’m_ not sure if she counts as one.”

“Simple,” Glory Girl said before turning towards me, “can you make laser guns?”

“Seriously?” I asked as everyone else groaned.

“All Tinkers have the ability to make laser guns, ergo, if you can make laser guns, you’re a Tinker.” Glory Girl responded, confident in her logic.

“The sad part is, I can’t actually argue with that,” said Aegis. “Better answer her, she’s not going to let up until you do.”

“To be perfectly honest...” I pulled the hood off the Prowler, shrunk it, and replaced it with another I had in my pocket. It was similar to the last one, except the headlights were replaced with a pair of ray-guns, and the windshield had a targeting display.

“Ha, laser guns, you’re a Tinker.”

“Technically they’re electro-pulse blasters. Kinda like a taser, except rapid fire, and you don’t have to deal with any wires.” I needed something non-lethal for when I transitioned to being a hero, and I wasn’t currently in the best shape. A stun blaster attachment for the Prowler solved both problems.

“Pretty interesting that you can just swap parts like that, makes things pretty convenient,” said Aegis.

“Do you even Lego? Mix and match is how the whole thing works.” I turned to Kid Win, only a little nervous wondering what he thought of it. He didn’t seem to be listening to anyone though, staring at the front of the Prowler with an indescribable expression on his face. “What’s the matter, do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“Swap parts,” Kid Win said as his gaze shifted towards me, “mix and match.” Without any warning, he let out a whoop of delight, ran towards me, and planted a massive kiss right on my lips.

Taylor_Hebert.exe has encountered a fatal exception and needs to reboot.

“Oh man, this is big. If this is what I think it is, I owe you big,” Kid Win said, manic expression on what I could see on his face. “I... I need to get to my lab before I lose this.” With that, he jumped on his hoverboard and rocketed off, leaving the rest of us to wonder what the hell just happened.

“So... I guess you’re his type?”

Vista, you are lucky I don’t know where you live or you would be experiencing the same wrath I had planned for my father.

* * *

(3rd POV)

There is a saying on the Rig, if you see Armsmaster frowning, stay out of his way. If he’s actually scowling, run. This saying has a basis in truth, Armsmaster isn’t one to show his emotions on his face, so any emotions he does show are never as strong as what he’s actually feeling. Right now, as he was heading towards Kid Win’s lab, he was scowling.

Armsmaster had long considered Chris to be among the more professional of the Wards. While he could understand the urge to tinker could be all but overwhelming at time, he had thought that Chris had it under control. Leaving his teammates in the middle of a patrol was the absolute height of irresponsibility.

Arriving at Chris’ lab, he found it locked with Aegis standing in front. “I don’t suppose you have any explanation for his recent... behaviour.”

“Not really. One moment we were chatting with a new rogue, the next he kisses her and flies off into the sunset,” Aegis replied with a shrug.

Armsmaster didn’t reply, opting instead to punch in the override code to the door. Walking inside the lab, at first glance everything seemed the same, Chris was hunched over a workbench working one something with almost manic intensity, while an array of incomplete devices was piled on a table. However, Armsmaster’s detail oriented mind noticed something that most would consider insignificant. Instead of being in a rough pile, the parts were carefully organized by basic shape. In addition, now tha they were laid out like this, Armsmaster noticed that there were several sets of parts that shared all but identical size and basic shape.

Deciding to get to the bottom of this behaviour, Armsmaster cleared his throat. Chris jumped in his seat a little, before turning around, a large smile on his face, “I figured out my specialty!”

One of Armsmaster’s eyebrows rose underneath his helmet, that would explain his need to rush off. Chris had been plagued by his inability to determine his specialty for longer than he’d been a Ward. “Elaborate.”

“When that new cape we met pulled off the hood of her ATV and plopped on a new one, it reminded me of something all my half-finished builds had in common.” Chris got off the stool, clenched in his hand was what he’d been working on. It looked like the grip for one of his laser pistols, but just the grip. “Everything I built had this little connector port on it. I thought it was where the rest of what I was going to build would go, but it isn’t.” Chris grabbed a seemingly random part from the table and snapped it to the grip, turning it into a full pistol. “Everything I thought was incomplete was actually finished, a module I could swap out as needed.” Chris snapped the emitter off, before replacing it with a much longer piece, onto which he snapped the original emitter and a scope. “That’s my specialty, Modularity!”

“Congrats pal,” Aegis sad, slapping Chris on the back, “knew you had it in you.”

Armsmaster on the other hand was thinking of his own tech. One of the things that was hindering his ability to get more out of each of his halberds was the size of each halberd. He couldn’t increase the size without making them unwieldy, and the sheer variety of threats made reducing the amount of equipment in each halberd less than ideal. He originally had a concept of a halberd with swapable heads he could change out depending on the situation, but the join was a structural weakness he could never overcome. Kid Win’s newfound specialty, combined with his reminder that old ideas were always worth a second look, brought that concept back into the realm of feasibility. “Kid Win, I have an assignment for you.”

“Sir,” Chris replied as he snapped into a passable approximation of Present Arms.

“See if you can devise a connection port compatible with my halberd rated for use in heavy melee combat.” Chris’s face glowed at the thought of his newfound talents being appreciated. “After which you will be spending the next month on monitor duty for abandoning your patrol.”

“Dang it,” Chris muttered under his breath. Armsmaster didn’t hear, having started the trek back to his own lab. If he wanted a proof of concept ready for when the connector was designed, he’d best get started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will I ship Chris and Taylor? Only time will tell.


	5. Character Selection

(Taylor POV)

Well... this isn’t something I’d expected.

Apparently as part of her punishment for stealing my Prowler, Victoria had to finance a professional costume for me, which is how I found myself in front of Parian’s shop, idea notebook in hand. Brandish didn’t ask for the mask back, so I was wearing it now.

We arrived at her shop just in time to see her finishing up a puppet show. It looked like an excerpt from the Wizard of Oz, if the plushy Tin Man was any indication. As Parian and her puppets bowed to the crowd of applauding children, Victoria called out. “Another sold out crowd Pari?”

Parian turned towards us, she had a full face mask, but I could still see an exasperated expression. “Victoria, let me guess, you ripped your costume when you crashed through the wall of your mom’s office, and are using  it as an excuse to update your look.”

Victoria groaned, “I am  _never_ hearing the end of that, am I?”

“Unlikely,” Parian said as a massive fabric gorilla started packing up. “So, what actually brings you here?”

“Mom says I’ve got to shell out for a costume for her new client,” Victoria said, pointing at me. I couldn’t help but blush slightly, I thought I was getting used to being around heroes, before feeling a small hand pull at my jeans.

Looking down, I saw a little 5 year old girl looking at me. “Are you a hero?”

Roll will save vs cute... save failed.

“I will be, first though I’m going to be a Rogue for a while, like Parian.”

“Are you gonna do shows?”

The thought of doing shows percolated through my mind as her mother bundled her up and alternated between apologizing for her daughter and softly admonishing said daughter. Mrs Dallon had recommended that I pick up some sort of charity activity in order to keep the NEPEA-5  people off my back, as well as to help build up a positive PR profile.

“Actually,” I said as I pulled off my backpack and pulled out some bricks, putting together an old fashioned jukebox, “you could say that.” I pulled out a 2x1 flat slab with a picture of a dollar bill, inserted it into the jukebox, and pressed the button. As it started playing that [legendary circus song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zjedLeVGcfE), 3 Lego clowns jumped out of my bag, enlarged, and started throwing cream pies at each other. In a couple of seconds, the site of Parian’s show had become an impromptu 1 ring circus, and all the children present were begging to be allowed to stay.

“Impressive,” said Parian as she led us towards her shop, before turning towards me, “do you need to be present for them to work?”

I shook my head, “They’re autonomous.”

“You know, you’re making it kinda hard for me not to kidnap you and make you join New Wave,” Victoria said as we entered the store.

Parian smacked her with a ribbon, “Please don’t kidnap my fellow Rouge. Now, do you have any thoughts on what you’d like?” she asked as she turned to me.

“I do have a few ideas,” I said, pulling out a few sheets from my bag. “Most of my larger builds are styled after construction equipment, I’d like to stick with that.”

Parian hmmed as she used some threaded needles to array the pages in front of her. “Not the most stylish of costumes if you ask me,” Victoria said, peeking over her shoulder.

“Well I for one am glad to work on something practical for a change,” Parian replied, studying my sketches. “I can whip up most of this in about an hour, luckily I recently started work on a new puppet that uses materials I don’t normally stock, I have enough left over for this. These bits however,” she said, gesturing at one of the closeups, “they aren’t exactly things I specialize in.”

“I’ve already got those,” I replied, patting my bag.

“Well then, let’s get started,” Parian said as an array of cloth measuring tapes floated out of her dress, bearing a resemblance to a group of cobras. I couldn’t help but gulp.

* * *

Standing just inside the door in my new costume, I couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. Although I have to admit, Parian did good work, it turned out much better than I thought it would. The main body of the outfit was simple enough, jeans and a blue button up shirt, over which was a yellow reflective vest with plenty of pockets. Instead of a normal mask, my dad had gotten me a thick pair of safety goggles, with the lenses shaped to match my prescription. On top of my head was his old hard-hat, painted a cheery red, and an artist minifig had painted the Lego logo on the front. A pair of heavy black steel toed boots and a pair of yellow work gloves completed the ensemble.

“Come on, you look good, much better than I thought you would,” Victoria said, giving me a gentle, for her, shove. Glaring at her for a moment, I steeled myself before opening the door. I have to admit, the sight that awaited me did much to calm my nerves.

The jukebox was playing [a new, rather fast paced song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ryEzfq-yGKk), as one of my clown minifigs and a somewhat overweight man were having a dance-off. It was an interesting dance, with lots of kicking. The gathered children, and a couple of the parents, were clapping along to the beat. They both had intense looks on concentration on their faces. Soon enough though, the clown missed a step, falling down. The man cheered, “You were good challenge little clown, but Mikhail is champion for reason.” He helped the minifig to its feet before pulling a sandwich and chowing down as he went on his way.

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I started to pack up the impromptu circus, much to the disappointment of the kids. As I was putting away the see-saw, a kid walked up to me. “Will you put on another show? I didn’t get a turn with the music box.” Taking a look, he had a regular dollar bill in his fist.

“I don’t see why not,” I said as I cast a long look at the Jukebox. Parian was fast, and this was a simple costume, but we were still in there for a good hour. If the party was still going, and the kid wanted to put real money in it... Taking the top off of it, I was only partially surprised to find about $30 inside.

“Well, I guess lunch is on you...” Victoria started before cutting off. “Come to think of it, did you pick a name for yourself yet?”

As a matter of fact, I hadn’t. Coming up with a name that both stayed true to my Lego roots but could still be taken seriously was hard.

‘ _I, AM, A MASTER BUILDER!!’_

Where the hell did that voice come from? “You hear that?”

Victoria just looked at me, “...no?”

“Never mind,” I said. Maybe it was a powers thing? Who knew how thinker powers worked. I already had Tinker, Master and Brute ratings from the PRT, what’s one more? Better keep the fact that I was hearing voices to myself though, even if they did solve my name problem. “By the way, you can call me Master Builder.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you ask, yes, that was the voice of Emmet. From time to time I'll be having quotes pop in, that can originate from any media that Lego has created or licenced, even the Sam Ramey Spider-Man movies.


End file.
